The X-men run missions and work together with the NYPD, striving to maintain a peaceful balance between humans and mutants. When it comes to a fight, they won't back down from protecting those who need their help.
Haven presents itself as a humanitarian organization for activists, leaders, and high society, yet mutants are the secret leaders working to protect and serve their kind. Behind the scenes they bring their goals into reality.
From the time when mutants became known to the world, SUPER was founded as a black-ops division of the CIA in an attempt to classify, observe, and learn more about this new and rising threat.
The Syndicate works to help bring mutantkind to the forefront of the world. They work from the shadows, a beacon of hope for mutants, but a bane to mankind. With their guiding hand, humanity will finally find extinction.
Since the existence of mutants was first revealed in the nineties, the world has become a changed place. Whether they're genetic misfits or the next stage in humanity's evolution, there's no denying their growing numbers, especially in hubs like New York City. The NYPD has a division devoted to mutant related crimes. Super-powered vigilantes help to maintain the peace. Those who style themselves as Homo Superior work to tear society apart for rebuilding in their own image.
MRO is an intermediate to advanced writing level original character, original plot X-Men RPG. We've been open and active since October of 2005. You can play as a mutant, human, or Adapted— one of the rare humans who nullify mutant powers by their very existence. Goodies, baddies, and neutrals are all welcome.
Short Term Plots:Are They Coming for You?
There have been whispers on the streets lately of a boogeyman... mutant and humans, young and old, all have been targets of trafficking.
The Fountain of Youth
A chemical serum has been released that's shaving a few years off of the population. In some cases, found to be temporary, and in others...?
MRO MOVES WITH CURRENT TIME: What month and year it is now in real life, it's the same for MRO, too.
Fuegogrande: "Fuegogrande" player of The Ranger, Ion, Rhia, and Null
Neopolitan: "Aly" player of Rebecca Grey, Stephanie Graves, Marisol Cervantes, Vanessa Bookman, Chrysanthemum Van Hart, Sabine Sang, Eupraxia
Ongoing Plots
Magic and Mystics
After the events of the 2020 Harvest Moon and the following Winter Solstice, magic has started manifesting in the MROvere! With the efforts of the Welldrinker Cult, people are being converted into Mystics, a species of people genetically disposed to be great conduits for magical energy.
The Welldrinker Cult
A shadowy group is gaining power, drawing in people who are curious, vulnerable, or malicious, and turning them into Mystics. They are recruiting people into their ranks to spread the influence of magic in the world, but for what end goal?
Are They Coming for You?
There have been whispers on the streets lately of a boogeyman... mutant and humans, young and old, all have been targets of trafficking.
Adapteds
What if the human race began to adapt to the mutant threat? What if the human race changed ever so subtly... without the x-gene.
Atlanteans
The lost city of Atlantis has been found! Refugees from this undersea mutant dystopia have started to filter in to New York as citizens and businessfolk. You may make one as a player character of run into one on the street.
Got a plot in mind?
MRO plots are player-created the Mods facilitate and organize the big ones, but we get the ideas from you. Do you have a plot in mind, and want to know whether it needs Mod approval? Check out our plot guidelines.
Zek flashed Maria a too-wide grin and cackled. Now that gal had style! He tossed his helmet at her and reached into his trenchcoat where once again, a ball then a portal appeared and he was able to pull a second helmet out. This one had flames on the side of it so it was extra cool.
“Well, then, what are you waiting for? Hop on!” he said, turning on his vehicle as the motorcyclists started up their engines. “Hey Bruiser! I’ll keep her nice and safe for ya!” he jeered, a round of catcalls and hooting bouncing back from the non-Bruiser bikers and quartet members.
“You might wanna hold on tight,” he said, spinning his head completely around to look straight behind him. “This might be a bumpy ride!” he told Maria.
Then he was off! The other bikers too! Zipping their way through the streets, ignoring traffic laws and traffic and rude people getting in their way! All the way to the Mudpuppies’ hangout!
Zek dumped the remnants of a cheese cracker on Carrie in protest. "I don't know why I even bother using this airline," he said as his ride carried him through the sky. There was always so much turbulence. Then again, Zek did have an amazing view of all the grounds from this way up. He was primed to witness all the action, chaos, and drama that Casper had promised him was going to happen today.
The cold wasn't a problem either. He was in his Long John Shivers outfit, consisting on red and white-striped long underwear underneath his customary black trenchcoat, combat boats, and fingerless gloves. And he had his murderbucket helmet on. "Oh by the way, Sammy-poo," Zek said through the X-Man communicator that Captain Chillout had once given him after a very special time together, "You're out of crackers. And steak."
There was a sudden sharp pain on the back of his neck and he reflexively slapped at it, but the clever wasp nimbly dodged away.
Just say the word? “The word!” Zek said and he slapped his hands down on the table and shot to his neet. “Come on, boys! We’ve got a hangout to vandalize!”
The bikers and the barbershop quartet roared with laughter and approval and eight men started scrambling to their feet.
“Don’t you worry about your tab, Maria,” Zek said with a wink and a thumb pointed at Bruiser. “He’ll take care of it. Let’s go, gang!”
Zek strolled confidently and purposefully toward the door, except for the slight detaour to flip a very shiny coin that looked golden at the bartender. “My man!” he said, before heading out into the night.
The bikers and the quartet were streaming out with him (although Bruiser stayed back to open the door and hold it for Maria) and everyone quickly made their way to their respective motorcycles. Zek merely held out a scarlet orb of light and dropped it, where it swiftly became a four wheeler. He snagged his helmet off the seat and put it on. “You’ve got options if you wanna ride double!” he shouted at Maria.
Zek was suddenly getting a hankering for a peanut butter and asparagus sandwich, but since the bartender didn’t have any s’mores, he doubted he’d be able to whip up that delicacy for Zek either. Ah well, he’d drown his sorrows in water and pretzels.
“Action, huh?” one of the guys laughed, to a mixed chorus of cheers and boos, depending on the propriety of the people involved.
“She’d a dame, don’t talk like that around her, Butch,” one guy said, throwing a pretzel in his direction.
Zek intercepted the pretzel with his mouth and sat back in his chair. His eyes glowed with golden light for a brief moment as he grinned at Maria. “This is pretty much a regular Thursday afternoon for me,” Zek said smugly, his eyes returning to brown. “But if it’s action or drawings you’re into, I think I have an idea of how you can achieve both.”
He slid a hand into his trenchcoat, formed a ball of white light that became a tiny portal, and then reached through that portal to grab something off a shelf in a storage room in Zekworld. He pulled his hand back across interdimensional lines, dismissed the portal, and then dragged hand and item out of the trench coat and set the can of spray paint on the table.
“Wanna help us graffiti the Fifth Street Mudpuppies’ hangout?”
Zek flashed Maria some truly epic winks as she sat right down in the midst of the guys and made herself at home.
“Lady, you could be sweet or do whatever you want to me,” one of the bikers said with a leer, right before another smacked him upside the head. Bruiser, however, blushed deeply enough that it almost matched his pinstripe jacket.
“Anyways,” Zek said as he deftly refilled some mugs, “Maria’s new in town. I figure who better to show her around than some of the best guys I know? Unfortunately none of them were available so I’m gonna hafta settle for you knuckleheads!”
Several of the guys began hooting and hollering and Zek nimbly dodged a few playful jabs.
“Careful there, Shrimpy!” said the biker with neatly parted hair and the clean shave. “Keep that up and we’ll have to rough you up!”
“Promises, promises, Wrecker,” Zek said, flopping into his seat with the bowl of pretzels appearing in his hand. “You’ll have to at least buy me dinner first.”
More laughter and guffaws as some of the guys began nudging and jabbing Wrecker.
“So whaddya think, Maria? What’s a girl like you like to do on a Friday night?” Zek said with a grin.
This was why Zek liked getting the round for people. It let you meet new fascinating people where you least expected it! Well, Zek actually tended to expect to meet interesting people at bars - he had a 100% success rate.
“Well welcome to the Big Apple Pie!” Zek said grandly and with gusto. Two pitchers of beer for the table and an aqueous martini on the rocks appeared on the counter, along with another basket of pretzels with a piece of string cheese and a glare from the bartender. Zek blew him a kiss and didn’t even notice the lack of s’mores or marshmallows.
“Here, you carry this one,” Zek said, shoving a pitcher at her as he hopped off his barstool and started making his way back to his table. It was really two tables smashed together. Four burly, hairy men in biker leathers were on one table and four clean-cut guys in aforementioned pinstriped jackets and white pants were at the other table, their canes and pork pie hats hanging on the backs of their chairs.
“I like you!” he informed his new best friend as she played along. “Your Tony is gonna be Bruiser, on the left with the tribal face tattoo.” Zek nodded his head at one of the barbershop quartet guys. “He’s a teddy bear on the inside, and inside that teddy bear is a box of razor blades and jasmine soap, so be careful about playing too roughly, but otherwise, have fun!”
Then Zek was dragging another chair over. “Hey guys, I got the beer and a friend. This is Maria!” he said.
“MARIA!” the bikers and quartet chorused, a noticeable four-part harmony weaving through the coarse and drunken gusto.
Zek’s eyes widened and the whites of his eyes started glowing white. “Yessss!” he said in awed inspiration. He turned to the bartender. “What the lady said!” he said as he jerked a thumb at her and completely missed the sarcasm and the bartender’s expression. “Do you have any S’mores?” He looked expectantly at the bartender’s blank face of doom.
As the bartender got to work on the drinks he turned back to Leather Lady. “You have fantastic taste,” he said. S’mores, combat boots, leather jackets and….lavender shirts? Where was the catwalk?
He cocked his head when she gave the origin of the boots. “I don’t get it,” he said with a shake of his head. “Was Val a heel or something?” He shrugged. “Chicago is fun though. I was a rodeo clown there for a few weeks. They had amazing tofurkey.”
As he admired her boots and even propped up one of his own to casually gauge sizes, he shrugged. “Maybe. I just met them all tonight, but you never know. I’m trying to get the barbershop quartet to teach the bikers how to sing and dance,” he said nonchalantly. At that moment three of the guys in red and white striped shirts and white pants started snapping their fingers rhythmically and elbowing the bikers to get them to join in.
He suddenly smiled broadly. “Hey! You wanna join us? I’m trying to get them to live out West Side Story! You wanna be the Maria?”
Zek pushed back from his table and sketched a quick bow as the other people at the table roared with laughter. “And there’ll be more where that came from, right after I get the next round!” he said, his eyes literally twinkling with mischief and bright blue light.
The trenchcoat-cald man danced and juked his way over to the bar. It was a fun night so far - he’d run into a small biker gang and a barbershop quartet about to have it out in the parking lot earlier, but after a few well-timed jokes, the entire group had ended up at the bar, thick as thieves.
“Another round!” Zek said, hailing the bartender. “And more pretzels! I’m already out. Hey, do you have any beer cheese to go with the pretzels? Or marshmallows? I could really go for something sweet.”
The bartender nodded quickly and began making the order, which gave Zek plenty of time to observe everyone around him.
That included the lady next to him who had such fantastic style!
“Ooo, where did you get those boots?!” Zek gushed. They looked similar to the ones he was wearing, but he didn’t recognize the brand.
Zek frowned. That didn’t sound like a great pizza place after all. It sounded a lot like a school, actually. “Eh, pass,” he said. He could admire Lady Rho’s work without ever having to see it. Besides, he wasn’t sure if there were any conflicts of interest there, since according to the charter of the Cult of the Flying Celestial Orb, his soul was already supposed to fuel the cosmic fusion machine that powered the Great Silver Saucer after he died. That sounded way more fun to him - there was always a chance it could go boom.
Of course, a cross-pantheonic war could be fun too. He opened his mouth to suggest something highly inflammatory and controversial when Pink & Purple cut him deeply and severely.
She didn’t care for the pizza.
Zek’s eyes widened. His mouth fell open. He stared at her in pain!
Then put more pizza in his mouth and washed his cares away.
“To each their own,” he shrugged. More for him anyways.
As the conversation switched to hemming and hawing about whether or not they as a group should commit genocide, Zek just steadily packed away his pizza. He figured he’d go along with whatever the group said - this lot was bound to be fun no matter which side they choose. Even peace. Because he felt like Snowman and Passionfruit didn’t really know the meaning of the word.
But Zek was rapidly growing bored. Now they were just talking about research or something. He’d devoured the last of his pizza and was slurping the last of the melted ice cream out of his bowl when there was a tap on his shoulder.
He twisted his head around and looked up.
A man, dressed in gray robes, a long white beard, and a pointed gray hat and a wooden staff in hand was standing there. He was flanked by a woman of Zek’s height and build and even a similar smirk. She had a hot pink mohawk, wore a leather biker jacket with spikes on the shoulders and was staring at Aura and Lenna like a rival predator. On the man’s otherside was a guy of exactly Zek’s height and build and exactly the same features, except he was standing up straight, had an outfit on that looked almost identical to Frosty Sword’s (including the eyepatch) and a no-nonsense military-esque bearing. He nodded at Cold Steel.
“What’s up?” Zek said, smearing the last bit of chocolate around his face.
“I am Hezekiah the Gray,” the bearded man said in melodramatic tone. “We have need of you, Zek Covington, of Earth 90210. The fate of the universes is at stake. Come with us, if you want to live.”
Zek cocked his head to the side. He licked the chocolate off his lips. He spun his head around and put the ice cream bowl back on the table. “Okay guys, I’m off,” he said to Eyepatch, Linda, and Aurora. “If you decide to kill a bunch of people, let me know and I’ll bring snacks, otherwise I’m off to whatever. Bye!”
Then he stood up and turned to the newcomers.
The man in the robes nodded gravely and tapped his staff on the floor. Light flashed from the tip of it, blasting through the room, and when it faded, Zek and the other three were gone.
Zek shook, rattled, and rolled across the rooftop. A gravelly roof was already horrible to fall on, but when the friction was upped by twenty times, even the slightest touches were like scouring pads. The only upside was that Zek didn’t roll very far. He still got to his knees after a struggle, the rooftops acting almost like velcro. It took so much effort just to pick his feet up.
He managed to pull himself to his feet, cursing up a storm. His eyes were now solid red, the faint glow catching on the blood covering his face from the scrapes and scratches of the roof. His nose was on fire and he spat more blood.
He shot a look at his friend but didn’t respond. His face was hard. His flak jacket had protected his torso, but it was scraped up. His cargo pants weren’t in great condition either. His gloveless hands were a raw mess.
His back was to Top Hat, his head on backwards thanks to the extra bones in his neck. He didn’t bother twisting his body around to face Top Hat, but began advancing in short, jerky movements thanks to the increased friction of the rooftop.
Red light coalesced in a hand and it became a duffle bag. He reached into it and light flashed the bag away, leaving him with a crusty metal baseball bat in one hand and a several-foot length of chain in the other.
“Hey you dandy prat,” Zek said with no inflection whatsoever. “Who don’t you come over here and play?”
One of Zek’s eyes had stopped glowing and was back to a boring brown, but the other one was a solid blue light as he emerged from his final portal. “Oww,” he moaned as he stumbled across the roof. The five foot fall had been surprisingly jarring and his nose smarted.
He perched himself on an air vent and yelled out after Kittyhawk did his thing. “Yeah, and I expect all my peanut butter to still be there, too!” he said. “And if you saw a red letter you can keep that - the Marquise can’t take a hint!”
That was about when Featherbutt Airlines really plummeted in ability.
Zek barely had time to even look at what was happening when suddenly Critter was shouting for a ball.
That was about when Zek realized the Winged Wonder was falling.
“I got you!” he said, throwing a ball of light at his friend. He missed by several feet. “Quit moving!” Zek yelled before another ball hit the roof somewhere probably below Crispy. Just before a hypothetical gryphon would hypothetically hit a figurative building after falling for a metaphorical twenty feet, a ten foot solid white disc appeared.
An orange-ringed portal opened up in Zekworld, right above the pitcher’s mound and pointed up at the mid-day “sky”. There was the perfect amount of air friction, too. Anything that theoretically fell through the rooftop portal would pop out getting launched “up” in Zekworld, where gravity and air friction could bleed away momentum or allow certain people a chance to fly around and re-enter Dullworld at their choosing.
While the portal was open, Zek took the opportunity to write a message on the wall in one of the recreation rooms he’d built in Zekworld.
In his distraction, he didn’t notice the puff of air behind him, but he did notice the punch straight to the back of his head. He flew off the air vent and skidded across the suddenly highly-abrasive rooftop.
Zek rolled his still-flashing blue and gold eyes. “Obviously you’re not a bloodhound,” he said as his comrade complained once again. “Bloodhounds are devilspawn people eaters and need burned on sight. If you were a bloodhound, I’d’ve already left you in pieces, scattered across the city.” Despite his brave words, Zek still shuddered. Ugh. Bloodhounds.
Besides, Crumpet was better than a stupid dog. Literally anything was better. But Crinkle-cut could also smell like a dog (the guy’s hygiene wasn’t the best, in Zek’s opinion) and track things like a dog so it all worked out.
But then Featherbutt flew off, hot on a scent, leaving Zek alone on their rooftop. “Oi!” he shouted. “I’m giving you a negative airline review for this!” he said, flinging his cotton candy uselessly at the guy. He then held up a white ball and a moment later walked through a portal and off the building.
Ten seconds and a super fast moving sidewalk later, Zek emerged on the rooftop across the street. Fifteen seconds later he was on the rooftop another street over. Ten seconds later he smashed his nose into a wall and had to readjust his portal so it came out higher. Then he fell five feet onto a rooftop.
Meanwhile, the two dastardly dipsticks turned to face their fine feathered foe. “Yer gonna hafta be more specific, mate,” Top Hat shouted. “We take from a lot of people.”
The oily-sounding one chimed in. “Besides,” he sneered nasally, “what are you going to do about it?” He pointed up at the winged guy and suddenly all the air around the flier lost all its friction and all of its ability to generate lift.
Zek harrumphed. “Harrumph!” he said. “I mean, the smokebomb trick is cool I guess, but nowhere as great as the disco staff.” The last time Carrie had played with said disco staff, he’d made it fill up part of an aquarium with fog. Which was an amazing trick, even if Zek had no idea how he’d done that or how to refill the staff. But he wasn’t going to tell him that!
For a short time, Zek was entirely mesmerized by the pile of endless kerchiefs. It was almost as big as Featherbutt! But finally both idiots got their act together.
“Yes! Magic!” Zek said. He finally dropped his hand because it was clear Karl wasn’t about to take it and join him on an adventure. Even if he did look cool in that hat.
Zek clapped his hands together. “Okay, great! Start sniffing them out and we’ll go get ‘em!” he commanded, reaching through a tiny portal to snag a paper cone with cotton candy on it and returning to Dullworld where he could devour it. “Onward, to vengeance!”
I gave this a shot! If you don't wanna use it, or you want some (big or tiny) changes, that's all totally fine by me. Lemme know if there are any edits or alternate versions you'd like to see.
Zek grinned at his pal’s greed. “I dunno, I’d say that hat is pretty priceless now,” he chuckled. Then his jaw dropped a bit when endless handkerchiefs started coming out. “No flippin’ way!” he said, a spike of jealousy flooding him.
“I mean, it’s not that cool,” Zek said, immediately trying to act aloof. “Not even a rabbit in there.” He wasn’t immediately regretting his generosity. Nope, not at all. Not at all. He didn’t regret giving up a hat that did more than just hold winged mice and smelly smoke bombs.
Because that would be petty.
“Yeah, you’re right,” Zek said, holding a hand up over his head. A ball of golden light appeared in his hand. “Here’s an idea. Why don’t we got track them down and just take all of our stuff and everything else they have?” Maybe they’d have more magician stuff. Or jewels or something. “Maybe they’ll have more magician stuff. Or Jewels or something.”
He stepped up onto the edge of the rooftop and held a hand out to Carpenter. “Whaddya say we hunt these bozos down?”